Enjoy The Silence
by Iridophobiac
Summary: "Words are spoken to be broken, feelings are intense. Words are trivial, pleasures remain, so does their pain. Words are meaningless and forgettable." - Depeche Mode
1. Prologue

He was dead. What more was there to expect?

He felt it.

Everything to be truthful. And the man had to admit, death wasn't that bad. Excruciating pain turning his vision white, then the light red of his closed eyelids, then black nothingness. More or less you could describe death as silence. Absolutely , afterwards he's open up his eyes and get tailored back together, piece by piece. The man didn't understand though, why wasn't he waking up now? Why was there just...

Silence?

It had been ten months since the undead Akatsuki duo had been killed, or rather, one killed and the other decapitated. The village had mourned and moved on, only a few left with dwindling feelings. The most affected by the incident was the albino, who was believed to be dead.

In reality he was very much alive, his screams filling the pit which he was trapt in, the forest filled with pitiful screams and pleading no one would ever hear. The man had been insane before he entered his own personal circle of hell, but now he wasn't even there.

"Kakuzu? Anyone...?" His screams turned to whimpering, the zealot not being able to here his own voice over the silence. To him it was not silence, but vast nothingness. He was pratically wiped off the earth, he knew no one was coming for him. His stitched partner was either dead, or left him there to rot. No one else knew where he was, and if they did, they weren't coming to help. The blank nothingness was caving in on him. The darkness and silence was all he had left, and it was killing him. He was truly alone now, he had no god, no one that loved him, no on that hated him. All the componets that made him real were gone. All he had left was nothing, and nothing was the only thing that hurt him. He had always hated words, them being more violent then actions and being a empty as a broken snowglobe. He detested feelings, emotions that broke him and but him back together. But, now the pain and pleasure of emotions and words was all he had left. Now there was only suffocating nothingness.

Silence.


	2. A dark room

After months of being buried alive the jashinist's grip on time got worse and worse. Day and night blended together, truthfully there was no difference, undeground it was always dark. Light dissapeared as soon as he was trapped in the hole, and with it, his sanity. He never even knew if his eyes were opened or closed. When light finally hit his eyes after months of beind drowned in darkness, he couldn't even open his eyes, even if it was only the dim luminescence of the moon and twinkling of barely visible stars.

The first thing he felt was hands. Two soft hands pressing lightly against each side of his face. His first thought was that it was a hallucination, witnessing such things in his isolation, but the voice made him realize it was reality. The zealot opened his eyes slightly, just to glance at the girl peering down at him with wide blue eyes.

"Hidan? Please.. for the love of god don't be dead..." The blonde stare down at him worriedly, the man letting out a groan in reponse, the woman smiling widely near tears. She placed the albino's head on the ground, climbing back into the hole. The jashinist barely registered what happened before seeping back into unconscious, realizing he was saved atlast.

The first thing the man noticed when he woke up was how loud and bright everything was. The second thing he realized was that he was out of the god foresaken hole.

The albino stared at his hands with wide eyes, clenching his fists and moving his fingers, a smile spread across his face. He was covered in large scars but the man couldn't complain, he couldn't even believe he was out. The zealot felt something wet cover his cheeks, his finger tips touched the area under his eyes, feeling warm tears coat his fingers. He wiped them away quickly, resenting the droplets of water, blaming it on the new found light. The jashinist stood up, staggering uncertainly on his unused legs, smiling like a child at christmas. His legs tremble a bit as he staggered over to a table near the wall on the other side of the room. As he looked around taking in where he was, it seemed to be a small damp cement room with a door on the ceiling, a ladder connected to it. There was a small window near the top of the cement walls, a small table with a odd clump of fabric atop, a piece of paper stuck to it. The man eagerly grabbed at the clothes pulling them on, the black shirt and pants fitting onto him loosely. Hidan smiled rubbing the fabric loosely against his skin, the feel of something soft being so foriegn after all those months. The man read the now crumpled note, smiling lightly, crawling under the table and wrapping a blanket around himself...

Waiting for his savior to return home from work.


End file.
